"That is your mother?" The doctor asked in shock. "Wow, I am really sorry." His eyes moved back and forth from my face to the monster behind the glass, as though looking for a family resemblance. I only stood about a foot away from her, separated by the two inch thick polymer, yet I felt so distant. I was actually surprised. I never thought i would see her again, but assumed if I did that it would hurt more. I assumed this moment, if it ever came, would have filled me with dread and caused my whole world to come crashing around me. Instead, I felt nothing. It was like emotional novacaine had been injected into my heart. Perhaps it because the monster in front of me barely resembled my mother. Perhaps I was in shock.
She tore at the glass with her fingers, leaving behind traces of some gelatinous ooze on the pane. Her teeth tried to bite the surface, as though she was trying chew her way through it to get to me.
She paused for a moment and then lunged at the glass, startling me from my blank stare. With renewed ferocity she tore at the pane, determined to find a way to get to me. I noticed a split in her skull where she had collided with the glass, and dark blood dripped out of the crack in her aged skin, congealing quickly as it hit the air. I took a step backward, which eased my tension just enough to ask a few questions. "How long has she been here?" I inquired, not able to look away from the horrific face mauling itself against the glass. The doctor's voice dropped, his tone filled with respect. "She's been here about a week. We found her roaming the woods on the north side of town. She was heading right for a small condo community. If we hadn't caught her when we did..." his voice trailed off, uncertain as to the effect this might have on me. "Are you okay?" I fought the tears that came unexpectedly to my eyes. "I'm not quite sure what to feel." He didn't reply.
A crash upstairs drew our attention to the door at the top of the catwalk. We could hear voices yelling and as the door slid open a large man wearing one of the hazmat suits stumbled through, wrestling with a long pole. As he stepped out onto the catwalk I could see he struggled to maintain control of something attached to a long pole. As he led the pole out of the clean room i could see a harness fastened tightly around the neck of a middle age man with writhing hands and yellow eyes. The man was tall and solidly built, and as he moved out of the room I could see there were two more poles attached to the collar, held by large men in hazmat suits, bracing him from behind. They moved carefully down the wide stairs as he thrashed uncontrollably. He didn't seem to be struggling to get loose but to grab those who restrained him, but even with his long, muscular arms it was no use. They guided him carefully down the stairs and positioned him into the middle of a square painted on the floor. A clear acrylic cube waited silently from the ceiling. A young woman with long brown hair came down the stairs. She wore a mask over her nose and mouth and clear, yellow tinted protective eyewear. She carried two padded restraints connected by a chain. She approached the beast confidently but cautiously, a wide smile on her face. Crouching down, she lifted one end of a long steel bar from the ground and propped it under the pole held by one of the men. She moved in a slow circle, keeping her eyes on the flailing arms. She pulled a second and third bar from the floor, bracing them under each pole held by the men. Once they had the leverage, the men pushed down on their poles simultaneously, lifting the monster up off the ground. His feet began to kick and flail about, fruitlessly trying to gain some sort of footing. The woman looked back at us, gave me a wink, and then got down on her hands and knees. She dodged to avoid the kicking feet, connecting one side of the ankle restraints to a bolt sticking out of the floor. Reaching up, she deftly wrapped one of the restraints around the first leg, pulling a thick black zip tie to secure it in place. The monster was furious at being contained, and as he tried to force his head to look down at her the thick collar wrapped securely around his neck gave the skin on his neck the almost comical appearance of double chins. His hands abandoned their attempt to remove the poles, and instead reached for her, pointlessly swinging back and forth, fingers flexed like deadly claws. Ignoring the extra attention, she rapidly attached the second restraint and pulled the zip tie tight. The beast was now stretched from head to foot, effectively immobilized and only his arms free to move and swing. "That's Whitney," the doctor said, a hint of pride in his voice. "She's one of the lab techs here, and helped design this restraint system." I watched as she stood up just a few inches from the reaching hands of the monster, smiling at him as though she felt perfectly safe. She seemed to actually enjoy what she did, something I was not sure I would have the courage, nor the stomach, to attempt. She turned and stepped outside the painted square and gave the men holding the poles a nod. They each clicked a button on the end of their poles and the clasps on the neck harness immediately released. The monster dropped to the ground and tried to lunge forward. Tripping on its ankle restraints it crashed to the floor. Whitney looked up toward the observation room at the top of the stairs and made a quick gesture. The acrylic cube lowered slowly down over the monster until the heavy plexiglass connected with the concrete floor. The men in suits filed back upstairs, laughing jovially and smacking themselves on the backs, bragging to each other about another successful capture.
The lab tech approached the two of us and pointed at me casually. "Who's this?" She asked the doctor with a smile. Even through the clear plastic of her mask her smile was contagious, and I couldn't help but smile back, despite the feeling of emptiness in my heart. The doctor gestured toward the cube behind us and said in a somber tone, "This is Z-19's son." Her smile faded immediately and her eyes turned to mine. "I'm so sorry," she said with genuine sympathy. "I can't imagine what you are going through right now." She looked back at the doctor. "This is the first time we've actually encountered a relative, does this change anything?" She asked. I looked over at him, curious to her meaning. "What is she talking about?" The doctor shook his head reassuringly. "I already explained how we have been trying to find a cure, how we've been trying various remedies in an attempt to find a way to not just stop the process, but reverse it." Whitney looked back at me and finished his sentence. "We've not been hampered by ethical entanglements... until now." She looked at my mother in the cube behind us. "So far they've just been mindless monsters that would snuff out our lives at the earliest opportunity. No offense." She looked at me with a nervous smile, unsure as to how I would react. I could sense their trepidation, probably wondering whether I would demand they release my mother, or refuse to allow them to experiment on her. "Don't worry about me." I reassured her. "It seems like you are one of the few groups out here who not only understand what is going on, but are trying to do something about it." They both looked relieved, and the doctor nodded to Whitney, who smiled and briskly departed up the stairs.
The doctor chose his next words carefully. "So are you okay with further tests? We are trying to find a cure, you know..." He waited, watching my face to read my emotions. "I know what's happened to her. I don't have any delusions about her current state. She had a wonderful life and when she disappeared I didn't think I would see her again." I looked over at the monster behind the glass. "When I look at that I know it's not my mother, but if something you do could find a cure for other people, I think she would want that. I might not like seeing what she's become, but in a way it's closure. Part of me always worried she was still out there, hurting people. At least in here she can do some good." He seemed satisfied and we walked upstairs together. We proceeded through the clean room and into the next area without speaking. As we removed the suits silently I could tell he wanted to get back the cheerful banter we had enjoyed earlier, but wasn't sure where to start. I didn't feel like talking, so I didn't bother making eye contact.
We walked out into the cavernous room and were met by the shopkeeper who had led me down from the army surplus store. He was waiting patiently, almost greedily, and I could tell he assumed the cube farm would seal my decision to invest in one of his condos. His face fell as he saw us and gave the doctor a look that seemed to say "What happened?" I saw the doctor gesture toward him, probably signaling that an attempt to sell me a house might not be a wise idea. The shopkeeper lowered his eyes and took a step backward, letting us pass him without saying a word. "I have to go address something." The doctor said to me quietly. "Would you mind waiting over there?" He gestured toward the children's playground where a few park benches sat under some potted trees. As I sat down I saw him duck into the nearest house with the shopkeeper.
It felt like I was buying a used car. I had spent way more time down here than I planned to, and all I wanted was to leave. Now the salesman was off consulting with his manager and would no doubt come at me with some final offer that I was supposed to feel too good about to refuse. I dreaded these situations in my normal life, and being forced into them now made me almost angry, but my manners and a feeling of uncertainty about their reaction to my disappearance kept me reluctantly glued to the bench.
I watched the kids playing with each other carelessly. They ran in circles, climbing up the ladder and then coasting down the slide. Over and over again they laughed and played. How nice it must be not to worry, to have no knowledge of the impending doom. "You're jealous of their innocence, aren't you?" I was startled by the voice of the lab technician, Whitney, who sat down on the bench next to me. I studied her, wondering if this was part of the sales pitch. She was very pretty and had a simple, clean honesty in her face. Her eyes held wisdom and experience, yet her smile was optimistic, untainted by time and circumstances. "They're plotting in there, you know." I did my best to give her a quizzical look. "Nice try." She said. "I can tell you know what's going on here." I opened my mouth in protest and then gave up. "It's an elaborate sales process, I know." I confessed. "And as amazing and safe as it is, there's no way I'd ever invest in something like this. Maybe later, if things get worse, but I have my own plans." She laughed a little, as though my "plans" we're humorous. "Like what? Live with Tracy in a storage unit?" She turned and looked at me plainly. "You know you guys won't survive in there. You only have enough supplies to last a few months, and if this really is the end of the world, well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be facing an army of those things with only 20 gauge corrugated metal to protect me." I stared in shock. "How did you..." She smiled at me, satisfied that her knowledge of my plans disarmed me. "We know more than you realize." She said, handing me her ID badge. Below her picture was a logo of a beaker with the words "VL Labs" written next to it. "And we're actually here to help."
You know how it ends. Now read how it begins...
Chapter 42- Cube Farm
"So the people around me that have died, it may have been my fault?" The feeling of guilt weighed heavy on my heart. I immediately thought of Lucas, how I had held him as he died, and how that moment might have been where I contracted this awful disease. Or had I given it to him? Was it my fault he suffered so? Immune to this virus' effects, had I spread it to my neighbor? To Mr. Lawrence? My own mother? My throat felt thick and I started feeling dizzy. How many people had I sat next to on the train who's lives were now over because of me? Who else would suffer? The doctor put his hand on my shoulder. "You've lost people close to you, I can tell." His voice was soft and sympathetic. "Everyone down here has. That's one of the reasons we built this place, to save those we love, and everyone else, from what we carry." He went to a cabinet and pulled out a small white packet. I heard the rip of paper and saw him approach with some gauze and a needle. He sat me on a nearby stool and pricked my finger. I didn't even notice the pain. I sat blankly, digesting the horrible news I'd just received, as he stirred my blood into a a small vial of clear liquid. The liquid turned a shade of electric blue, the color matching the larger vial on the counter. "Positive" he said, holding up the vial to me. "You are a carrier. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"Hey, look on the bright side, at least not everyone can get it." I laughed uneasily and tried to sound optimistic. "Of all the people I've been in contact with I have only seen a small percentage change." The doctor shook his head sadly. "I wish that were true." He held the beaker of clear blue liquid up in the air. "It's constantly adapting, morphing, and like any virus it aggressively finds new ways to attach itself to the DNA of its host." I considered that for a moment. "So I'm not immune? I could still be changed?" He nodded, gesturing toward the door. "But if that happens, we don't give up." We left the laboratory and walked back out into the cavernous room. The burden I felt didn't seem to weigh on the minds of those who lived in this little community. A feeling of safety and security seemed to reside on the countenance of every resident. Children were playing on a bright playground next to one of the houses, smiling as they swung on the swings "Higher, higher!" They called to each other. Their laughter rang through the air, drawing the attention of two women kneeling next to a small garden box nearby. They stopped and smiled, calling out to the kids as they played. "Great job honey!" and "Wow sweetheart, you're doing so well!" They resumed their digging, planting small seeds deep in the rich dark earth. One stopped and mopped her brow with the back of her hand, being careful not to get dirt from her trowel in her hair. She smiles politely as we pass, but I can see sadness in the back of her eyes, lingering. It's a reminder that no matter how normal life might seem down here, it's just not the same, and the fear of infection must always be lingering in the back of their mind. "That's Mary and Susan, they are married to Jack and Steve Hansworth, two brothers that help on our containment team." His voice dropped low "Mary's two year old daughter was one of the first infected. She unfortunately passed away before the treatment could save her." I stopped in my tracks. "Treatment?" I asked, surprised. "You mean, like a... cure?" The doctor smiled. I got the impression again that this was all part of a finely tuned sales pitch. So far it was working, I was eager to learn more.
We walked past a dozen houses before arriving at two double doors in the back of the room. Similar to the laboratory, they were made of grey steel and secured by a keypad mounted to the right of the door on the concrete wall.
Before he punched in his code, he stopped and looked at me. "Before we go inside, I need to prepare you for what you are about to see." He said plainly. "You will not be in danger, we have this area perfectly under control. We employ various tactics to not only keep us safe, but give the subject the chance to be treated appropriately." He paused, and cleared his throat. "Not everyone in here will be saved in time, and not every situation is preventable. We're doing our best, and we've seen some real success, but we've lost people too." He looked into my eyes. "Under no circumstances are you to touch anything in this room, do you understand?" I was a little shaken by his direct approach. I nodded in agreement and he turned to tap the code into the panel.
The door opened with a hiss and revealed a small room, not more than a few feet wide. Hazmat suits hung from hooks above simple wooden benches. The doctor immediately took the closest one and stepped into it. He pulled it up over his head and pushed his hands into the gloves. He turned around and grabbed a long tether attached to the zipper on the back. He pulled up the zipper and turned to me, gesturing toward one of the suits. I removed it from the hook and stepped into the boots. They were soft on the bottom, and I could feel them squash under my shoes. The thick rubber was cold and as I pulled the suit up my body I could hear the rubber snap and wiggle as it was pulled into shape. I pushed my arms down the sleeves and felt the cold rubber push my shirt sleeves up my arms. I wiggled a little bit to get them down, annoyed by the way they stuck inside the rubber sleeve. I pushed my fingers into the thick gloves, noticing the taped seams sealed tight. "Are these really necessary?" I asked before I lifted the helmet over my head. He nodded and his voice sounded distant and almost echoed through the suit. "It's for everyone's protection, not just ours." He opened the inner door and we stepped inside a small room barely big enough for the two of us. A glass window on the left revealed a man at a series of computer consoles. "Scanning" he said professionally and I heard the soft hum of some machine buried somewhere in the walls. "Clean" he said, followed by the whoosh of air being blown from above. The room filled with mist up to our waist and I moved my hands through it slowly. It was thick and I scooped a little tuft that sat like a miniature cloud in the palm of my hand before it dissipated into the air.
The door inside opened like an elevator, and we stepped out onto a catwalk overlooking a series of acrylic cubes connected by wires, cables, and other apparatus. Inside were individuals confined and under observation. Some sat in a corner alone, others lay in beds. Other than the medical equipment and a few overhead lights, there were no other items inside to decorate these little prisons. Men in white lab coats walked to and from each enclosure, observing the subjects and recording information into handheld tablets. They wore sanitary caps, masks and plastic eyewear. "Some of these are family members or friends of residents," he said. "Others are stragglers, the homeless, and those that the police or various government agencies found infected on the streets."
We walked down the solid metal stairs together, taking each step carefully and slowly. As we walked out onto the floor I noticed the faces of the inhabitants. The all too familiar scratches on their bodies accompanied the horrible, yellow eyes. Most stood in a corner mindlessly, others scratched at the walls as though trying to grasp their observers, and the ones in beds were strapped down tight. "The ones in beds..." I started. "Do they..." The doctor looked over at the one I was staring at. "Yes." he said, anticipating my question. "They attack the closest person at every opportunity. They are in the final stages, and not a single sedation technique we've tried will subdue them, so the only solution is restraint." I looked at the nearest containment unit and saw a young girl, no older than twelve, violently struggling against her wrist and ankle restraints. Her yellow eyes were void of emotion and her open mouth revealed swollen, bloody gums and crooked teeth that seemed to be turning brown. I stepped closer to the pane of thick acrylic separating us. She had been struggling so long that the flesh around her wrists and ankles had worn away, leaving dry, swollen sinews wrapped over her white bones. Her face was gaunt and malnourished, and her tawny skin was dry and cracked. "What will happen to her?" I asked, a hint of sadness in my voice. The doctor looked at her without emotion. "We haven't given up. We continue to test various inoculations, hoping that we can find a way to stop the process and eventually reverse it." He looked over at the next cube where a teenage boy sat in the corner. His yellow eyes stared blankly out into nothing, and he did not react or even acknowledge our presence. "If we catch it early enough we can slow the process significantly." The doctor said with pride. "This particular kid hasn't progressed past this stage. He's been staring at the wall for nearly two weeks now." I looked over at the doctor in surprise. "Two weeks?" I asked in shock. "How does he eat? Drink? Shouldn't he be dead?" The doctor cocked his head to the side as though continuing to study the boy. "We're not entirely sure how it happens, but the best way I could describe it is kind of an 'animal photosynthesis.'"
I walked from cube to cube, looking at the various inhabitants. "We've been able to define three distinct phases." The doctor explained. "The first phase is the one most people are familiar with. We call it the 'stare,' and it typically lasts between 24 and 48 hours. Its during this stage when the genetic mutation takes place." We moved to the cube opposite where a large middle age man slammed his fists against his cage. "Once the mutation is complete, the next phase is the 'fight,' where they attack anyone who gets close to them." I looked at the man inside his cage, infuriated that he could not reach me. "Highly aggressive, they seem to have the need to nourish themselves through cannibalism. They have almost supernatural speed and strength, and with the pain centers in their brain turned off, they do not stop until they have completed their objective or been killed." He moved to the next cube where an old man struggled in the restraints that held him securely in place. "Finally, there is the 'spread,' where they seem to have that primeval desire to propagate the species. It is by far the most aggressive of the stages. I considered this for a moment and then turned to challenge his assumption. "You mean they try to..." I couldn't even complete my sentence. He realized that I was picturing some sort of Zombie intercourse and immediately retracted. "No, no, not that kind of propagation. The spread merely creates an instinct to cover as much territory as possible, in essence, to 'spread' their illness to others. We don't know why, but when they get to this stage they run, chase, even hunt those not yet infected." I thought of my mother's flight into the woods after killing Mr. Munn and the resulting damage to all the homes in that neighborhood. I thought of the poor man who buried his own child in the yard and the ferocity of his wife as she tried to attack us. "Let's keep going." I said softly, not wanting to relive any more of those horrible memories.
We walked past a pregnant woman with thick yellow eyes standing in the middle of her cube, staring into the distance. "This is Deborah. We found her at a hospital in the waiting room. She was there for a routine prenatal checkup when she was exposed. We immediate brought her here and administered a dose of an experimental serum we call H-56. So far we believe it freezes the virus' ability to create further mutation, but we do not see any signs of reversing the process." I looked at her bulging stomach. "What about the baby? I asked in sorrow. "It's dead." He said with a hint of regret. "We couldn't hear a heartbeat when she arrived. We're concocting new serums all the time to aid in reversal, to help save Deborah and the others, but so far nothing has worked. It's possible the virus will win out and move to the next stage before we find a cure, but we're not sure." Deborah stared, unmoving. "None of the subjects we've caught have been here longer than a few weeks, so it's possible we're only delaying the inevitable." He cleared his throat and we we walked to the next cube where an old man lay prostrate on the cold concrete floor. "So it's possible," I surmised. "That you haven't stopped it, but only slowed it down." He nodded his head and pointed back at the Deborah. "That's precisely why we continue to keep each subject confined, no exceptions." His voice was cold and tired. "We have no idea how long this could take." I stopped and looked him in the eyes. "What if the virus mutates into something even more horrific?" He nodded and walked further down the walkway toward the back of the room. "Another reason to keep them locked up." He gestured around the room. "You'll see different stages all throughout this area, and eventually..." He stopped and looked back at me, realizing I was no longer following him. "Are you okay?" He walked back to the cube where I stood motionless. The monster inside was slamming itself against the wall, desperately trying to reach me. It's eyes we're full of hate and malice, and each time it struck the plexiglass wall a streak of dark, half-congealed blood smeared across the clean surface. It's nails were long and dark, dirt and blood crusted underneath them. Exposed bone gleamed through the fingertips, no doubt from scratching endlessly on the walls of the impenetrable prison. "This one is in the the spread stage." The doctor said educationally. "It's eagerly trying to find new subjects with which it can share its little gift." He chuckled at his own joke and cleared his throat when he realized I wasn't laughing. "Are you okay?" He asked, a worried tone in his voice. A single tear rolled from my eye down my cheek, but I didn't bother to wipe it away. "That.." I said in a soft whisper. "Is my mother."
"Hey, look on the bright side, at least not everyone can get it." I laughed uneasily and tried to sound optimistic. "Of all the people I've been in contact with I have only seen a small percentage change." The doctor shook his head sadly. "I wish that were true." He held the beaker of clear blue liquid up in the air. "It's constantly adapting, morphing, and like any virus it aggressively finds new ways to attach itself to the DNA of its host." I considered that for a moment. "So I'm not immune? I could still be changed?" He nodded, gesturing toward the door. "But if that happens, we don't give up." We left the laboratory and walked back out into the cavernous room. The burden I felt didn't seem to weigh on the minds of those who lived in this little community. A feeling of safety and security seemed to reside on the countenance of every resident. Children were playing on a bright playground next to one of the houses, smiling as they swung on the swings "Higher, higher!" They called to each other. Their laughter rang through the air, drawing the attention of two women kneeling next to a small garden box nearby. They stopped and smiled, calling out to the kids as they played. "Great job honey!" and "Wow sweetheart, you're doing so well!" They resumed their digging, planting small seeds deep in the rich dark earth. One stopped and mopped her brow with the back of her hand, being careful not to get dirt from her trowel in her hair. She smiles politely as we pass, but I can see sadness in the back of her eyes, lingering. It's a reminder that no matter how normal life might seem down here, it's just not the same, and the fear of infection must always be lingering in the back of their mind. "That's Mary and Susan, they are married to Jack and Steve Hansworth, two brothers that help on our containment team." His voice dropped low "Mary's two year old daughter was one of the first infected. She unfortunately passed away before the treatment could save her." I stopped in my tracks. "Treatment?" I asked, surprised. "You mean, like a... cure?" The doctor smiled. I got the impression again that this was all part of a finely tuned sales pitch. So far it was working, I was eager to learn more.
We walked past a dozen houses before arriving at two double doors in the back of the room. Similar to the laboratory, they were made of grey steel and secured by a keypad mounted to the right of the door on the concrete wall.
Before he punched in his code, he stopped and looked at me. "Before we go inside, I need to prepare you for what you are about to see." He said plainly. "You will not be in danger, we have this area perfectly under control. We employ various tactics to not only keep us safe, but give the subject the chance to be treated appropriately." He paused, and cleared his throat. "Not everyone in here will be saved in time, and not every situation is preventable. We're doing our best, and we've seen some real success, but we've lost people too." He looked into my eyes. "Under no circumstances are you to touch anything in this room, do you understand?" I was a little shaken by his direct approach. I nodded in agreement and he turned to tap the code into the panel.
The door opened with a hiss and revealed a small room, not more than a few feet wide. Hazmat suits hung from hooks above simple wooden benches. The doctor immediately took the closest one and stepped into it. He pulled it up over his head and pushed his hands into the gloves. He turned around and grabbed a long tether attached to the zipper on the back. He pulled up the zipper and turned to me, gesturing toward one of the suits. I removed it from the hook and stepped into the boots. They were soft on the bottom, and I could feel them squash under my shoes. The thick rubber was cold and as I pulled the suit up my body I could hear the rubber snap and wiggle as it was pulled into shape. I pushed my arms down the sleeves and felt the cold rubber push my shirt sleeves up my arms. I wiggled a little bit to get them down, annoyed by the way they stuck inside the rubber sleeve. I pushed my fingers into the thick gloves, noticing the taped seams sealed tight. "Are these really necessary?" I asked before I lifted the helmet over my head. He nodded and his voice sounded distant and almost echoed through the suit. "It's for everyone's protection, not just ours." He opened the inner door and we stepped inside a small room barely big enough for the two of us. A glass window on the left revealed a man at a series of computer consoles. "Scanning" he said professionally and I heard the soft hum of some machine buried somewhere in the walls. "Clean" he said, followed by the whoosh of air being blown from above. The room filled with mist up to our waist and I moved my hands through it slowly. It was thick and I scooped a little tuft that sat like a miniature cloud in the palm of my hand before it dissipated into the air.
The door inside opened like an elevator, and we stepped out onto a catwalk overlooking a series of acrylic cubes connected by wires, cables, and other apparatus. Inside were individuals confined and under observation. Some sat in a corner alone, others lay in beds. Other than the medical equipment and a few overhead lights, there were no other items inside to decorate these little prisons. Men in white lab coats walked to and from each enclosure, observing the subjects and recording information into handheld tablets. They wore sanitary caps, masks and plastic eyewear. "Some of these are family members or friends of residents," he said. "Others are stragglers, the homeless, and those that the police or various government agencies found infected on the streets."
We walked down the solid metal stairs together, taking each step carefully and slowly. As we walked out onto the floor I noticed the faces of the inhabitants. The all too familiar scratches on their bodies accompanied the horrible, yellow eyes. Most stood in a corner mindlessly, others scratched at the walls as though trying to grasp their observers, and the ones in beds were strapped down tight. "The ones in beds..." I started. "Do they..." The doctor looked over at the one I was staring at. "Yes." he said, anticipating my question. "They attack the closest person at every opportunity. They are in the final stages, and not a single sedation technique we've tried will subdue them, so the only solution is restraint." I looked at the nearest containment unit and saw a young girl, no older than twelve, violently struggling against her wrist and ankle restraints. Her yellow eyes were void of emotion and her open mouth revealed swollen, bloody gums and crooked teeth that seemed to be turning brown. I stepped closer to the pane of thick acrylic separating us. She had been struggling so long that the flesh around her wrists and ankles had worn away, leaving dry, swollen sinews wrapped over her white bones. Her face was gaunt and malnourished, and her tawny skin was dry and cracked. "What will happen to her?" I asked, a hint of sadness in my voice. The doctor looked at her without emotion. "We haven't given up. We continue to test various inoculations, hoping that we can find a way to stop the process and eventually reverse it." He looked over at the next cube where a teenage boy sat in the corner. His yellow eyes stared blankly out into nothing, and he did not react or even acknowledge our presence. "If we catch it early enough we can slow the process significantly." The doctor said with pride. "This particular kid hasn't progressed past this stage. He's been staring at the wall for nearly two weeks now." I looked over at the doctor in surprise. "Two weeks?" I asked in shock. "How does he eat? Drink? Shouldn't he be dead?" The doctor cocked his head to the side as though continuing to study the boy. "We're not entirely sure how it happens, but the best way I could describe it is kind of an 'animal photosynthesis.'"
I walked from cube to cube, looking at the various inhabitants. "We've been able to define three distinct phases." The doctor explained. "The first phase is the one most people are familiar with. We call it the 'stare,' and it typically lasts between 24 and 48 hours. Its during this stage when the genetic mutation takes place." We moved to the cube opposite where a large middle age man slammed his fists against his cage. "Once the mutation is complete, the next phase is the 'fight,' where they attack anyone who gets close to them." I looked at the man inside his cage, infuriated that he could not reach me. "Highly aggressive, they seem to have the need to nourish themselves through cannibalism. They have almost supernatural speed and strength, and with the pain centers in their brain turned off, they do not stop until they have completed their objective or been killed." He moved to the next cube where an old man struggled in the restraints that held him securely in place. "Finally, there is the 'spread,' where they seem to have that primeval desire to propagate the species. It is by far the most aggressive of the stages. I considered this for a moment and then turned to challenge his assumption. "You mean they try to..." I couldn't even complete my sentence. He realized that I was picturing some sort of Zombie intercourse and immediately retracted. "No, no, not that kind of propagation. The spread merely creates an instinct to cover as much territory as possible, in essence, to 'spread' their illness to others. We don't know why, but when they get to this stage they run, chase, even hunt those not yet infected." I thought of my mother's flight into the woods after killing Mr. Munn and the resulting damage to all the homes in that neighborhood. I thought of the poor man who buried his own child in the yard and the ferocity of his wife as she tried to attack us. "Let's keep going." I said softly, not wanting to relive any more of those horrible memories.
We walked past a pregnant woman with thick yellow eyes standing in the middle of her cube, staring into the distance. "This is Deborah. We found her at a hospital in the waiting room. She was there for a routine prenatal checkup when she was exposed. We immediate brought her here and administered a dose of an experimental serum we call H-56. So far we believe it freezes the virus' ability to create further mutation, but we do not see any signs of reversing the process." I looked at her bulging stomach. "What about the baby? I asked in sorrow. "It's dead." He said with a hint of regret. "We couldn't hear a heartbeat when she arrived. We're concocting new serums all the time to aid in reversal, to help save Deborah and the others, but so far nothing has worked. It's possible the virus will win out and move to the next stage before we find a cure, but we're not sure." Deborah stared, unmoving. "None of the subjects we've caught have been here longer than a few weeks, so it's possible we're only delaying the inevitable." He cleared his throat and we we walked to the next cube where an old man lay prostrate on the cold concrete floor. "So it's possible," I surmised. "That you haven't stopped it, but only slowed it down." He nodded his head and pointed back at the Deborah. "That's precisely why we continue to keep each subject confined, no exceptions." His voice was cold and tired. "We have no idea how long this could take." I stopped and looked him in the eyes. "What if the virus mutates into something even more horrific?" He nodded and walked further down the walkway toward the back of the room. "Another reason to keep them locked up." He gestured around the room. "You'll see different stages all throughout this area, and eventually..." He stopped and looked back at me, realizing I was no longer following him. "Are you okay?" He walked back to the cube where I stood motionless. The monster inside was slamming itself against the wall, desperately trying to reach me. It's eyes we're full of hate and malice, and each time it struck the plexiglass wall a streak of dark, half-congealed blood smeared across the clean surface. It's nails were long and dark, dirt and blood crusted underneath them. Exposed bone gleamed through the fingertips, no doubt from scratching endlessly on the walls of the impenetrable prison. "This one is in the the spread stage." The doctor said educationally. "It's eagerly trying to find new subjects with which it can share its little gift." He chuckled at his own joke and cleared his throat when he realized I wasn't laughing. "Are you okay?" He asked, a worried tone in his voice. A single tear rolled from my eye down my cheek, but I didn't bother to wipe it away. "That.." I said in a soft whisper. "Is my mother."
Chapter 41- Carrier
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was as though someone had built a football field underground and filled it with cozy little condos. We stood inside a steel and concrete cavern large enough to hold an aircraft carrier. Hundreds of feet high and well stocked, this little community seemed to have the capability to hold out indefinitely against almost any scenario. The homes looked comfortable and well lit, and their large windows showed cheery interiors lavishly decorated. Some of them were occupied with people watching TV, cooking meals, or working on computers. Others had small signs out front resembling real estate signs. "Available" was posted in red, and underneath were a list of various amenities or available customizations.
Behind each home were gigantic warehouse shelves stacked high with supplies. Crates of MREs, barrels of water, tents, sleeping bags, and rows and rows of guns stretched as far as the eye could see. There was literally enough food, water, and weapons to allow a small army to survive independently. A large school bus was parked in front of one of the homes, plated with heavy armor and thick, dangerous blades protruding from every possible angle. The words "Home Wrecker" were roughly spray painted on the side of the bus in red paint that had dripped dry.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Not bad, eh? A hundred thousand." The shopkeeper said with a gruff voice. I looked over at him. "Excuse me?" I asked, confused as to his meaning. He had a satisfied, resolute smile as though he felt he had the upper hand in some sort of negotiation. He folded his arms and stared at me resolutely. "Come on..." He said. "You know what's going on here. Where else are you gonna find something like this?" I backed toward the door. "This is some sort of sales pitch?" I asked incredulously. He nodded his head as though I was finally understanding him. "Not just a sales pitch" he said eagerly. "An opportunity! A chance to survive the madness up there!" I cocked my head to the side, wondering if he really understood the reality of the insanity growing every day. I thought perhaps it would be best to play along until I could find what I was looking for. I looked up at the ceiling as though I was inspecting it. "How strong is this?" I asked, pretending to show interest. "Would it withstand a nuclear blast?" I could see him growing greedy and eager. "Not a direct hit, but anything else, yes." He pointed up towards thin metal vents set into the thick concrete walls. "That air circulation system is the same used on submarines too, so you'd never need to worry about air quality."
A man in a lab coat approached us with a friendly smile. "Hello there!" he greeted me, hand outstretched. I was immediately skeptical, wondering about the connection between this location and VL labs, the organization we'd been running from for what seemed like years. "What do you think of our little community?" He asked as he shook my hand. He had a firm, strong grip yet his hands were soft and smooth. "Are you a doctor?" I asked, searching his eyes. He smiled and looked at me curiously. "Why yes, how did you know?" I pretended to relax a bit. "Just a hunch. You have the kind of hands I associate with doctors. Strong but soft." He smiled cheerfully, clearly not offended by the comment. "Very observant. My mother said the same thing when I was young, which probably encouraged me in that direction." I looked around and pointed at the closest house. "So you live here, huh? What do you think?" He was cheerful and forthright. "It's been amazing. With everything that is going on out there it feels great to know we are somewhere safe." My brow furrowed and I thought of all the people who had attacked me over the past weeks. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to their attacks, nor any infection they could have contracted. I had been in contact with these monsters multiple times, yet I had not been changed into one of them. "How do you know it's safe?" I asked, genuinely interested. Perhaps this doctor knew something I didn't know. The shopkeeper smiled knowingly, as though this doctor was his secret weapon in a finely tuned sales pitch. He clearly didn't care about what was going on, he was merely seizing a business opportunity. I guess I couldn't blame him, but I wondered if his attitude would change if anyone close to him were to be infected. The doctor turned and gestured me to follow him. "Let me show you what I've discovered."
A grey metal door was almost invisible against the thick cement of the wall. A keypad above the knob was illuminated a bright orange, it's numbers gleaming white. The doctor reached toward the keypad and then looked back at me. "Do you mind?" he asked, and I immediately averted my eyes to avoid seeing his passcode. A clicking sound followed by a whoosh softly lit across my ears. I heard a loud thunk as he pulled the door open. A cool breeze wafted through my hair from the opening. "Thanks" he said. "Nothing personal I hope." I nodded in agreement and followed him through the opening into a small room. The walls were covered with computer screens monitoring various items, reports automatically updating. A digital map of the world shown on the largest screen in the middle of the room, pins of red dotting the globe in various locations. The tables were covered with scientific instruments, microscopes, beakers with colorful solutions, and pages of notes and schematics. "Is that..." I pointed at the map. The doctor nodded his head. "All the known locations of the infection so far." He said solemnly. "There doesn't seem to be a pattern." I said, looking at the pins evenly scattered in major cities all across the world. "No, there's not an obvious one, unless you understand how this thing works." The doctor pointed at one city. "Look closely." He said. Notice the numbers in each city? It is spreading evenly in almost every location."
A tone called my attention to a new blip on the screen, and the graphic of red pin appeared on the map. It was located not far outside our city limits. "Another case" the doctor said sadly. "They happen more frequently now." He referred to a beaker of electric blue liquid. "Do you know how it works?" I studied the liquid, curious as to what it might be. "I haven't been able to see a pattern." I said. "Everyone who has been exposed seems to be almost random, and the people around them rarely get sick." The doctor nodded. "It seems that way, but it's not. You see, the virus is airborne, its everywhere, but it only infects certain people with the right genetic code." He referred to one of the screens behind him where the graphic of DNA rotated slowly. "It connects to those who have these proteins in this combination." A video showed a red virus attacking a blue, green, and yellow section of a DNA, wrapping itself around and then violently spreading across the entire strand. "We call these proteins the 'doorway segment' and once it latches on, it spreads across the strand, mutating the rest of the individual's genetic code, essentially turning them into something else." I studied the image on the screen. "So... If you're not compatible, what happens to the virus?" The doctor looked at me solemnly. "Then you become a carrier, a transporter of the virus, infecting everyone you come in contact with."
Behind each home were gigantic warehouse shelves stacked high with supplies. Crates of MREs, barrels of water, tents, sleeping bags, and rows and rows of guns stretched as far as the eye could see. There was literally enough food, water, and weapons to allow a small army to survive independently. A large school bus was parked in front of one of the homes, plated with heavy armor and thick, dangerous blades protruding from every possible angle. The words "Home Wrecker" were roughly spray painted on the side of the bus in red paint that had dripped dry.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Not bad, eh? A hundred thousand." The shopkeeper said with a gruff voice. I looked over at him. "Excuse me?" I asked, confused as to his meaning. He had a satisfied, resolute smile as though he felt he had the upper hand in some sort of negotiation. He folded his arms and stared at me resolutely. "Come on..." He said. "You know what's going on here. Where else are you gonna find something like this?" I backed toward the door. "This is some sort of sales pitch?" I asked incredulously. He nodded his head as though I was finally understanding him. "Not just a sales pitch" he said eagerly. "An opportunity! A chance to survive the madness up there!" I cocked my head to the side, wondering if he really understood the reality of the insanity growing every day. I thought perhaps it would be best to play along until I could find what I was looking for. I looked up at the ceiling as though I was inspecting it. "How strong is this?" I asked, pretending to show interest. "Would it withstand a nuclear blast?" I could see him growing greedy and eager. "Not a direct hit, but anything else, yes." He pointed up towards thin metal vents set into the thick concrete walls. "That air circulation system is the same used on submarines too, so you'd never need to worry about air quality."
A man in a lab coat approached us with a friendly smile. "Hello there!" he greeted me, hand outstretched. I was immediately skeptical, wondering about the connection between this location and VL labs, the organization we'd been running from for what seemed like years. "What do you think of our little community?" He asked as he shook my hand. He had a firm, strong grip yet his hands were soft and smooth. "Are you a doctor?" I asked, searching his eyes. He smiled and looked at me curiously. "Why yes, how did you know?" I pretended to relax a bit. "Just a hunch. You have the kind of hands I associate with doctors. Strong but soft." He smiled cheerfully, clearly not offended by the comment. "Very observant. My mother said the same thing when I was young, which probably encouraged me in that direction." I looked around and pointed at the closest house. "So you live here, huh? What do you think?" He was cheerful and forthright. "It's been amazing. With everything that is going on out there it feels great to know we are somewhere safe." My brow furrowed and I thought of all the people who had attacked me over the past weeks. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to their attacks, nor any infection they could have contracted. I had been in contact with these monsters multiple times, yet I had not been changed into one of them. "How do you know it's safe?" I asked, genuinely interested. Perhaps this doctor knew something I didn't know. The shopkeeper smiled knowingly, as though this doctor was his secret weapon in a finely tuned sales pitch. He clearly didn't care about what was going on, he was merely seizing a business opportunity. I guess I couldn't blame him, but I wondered if his attitude would change if anyone close to him were to be infected. The doctor turned and gestured me to follow him. "Let me show you what I've discovered."
A grey metal door was almost invisible against the thick cement of the wall. A keypad above the knob was illuminated a bright orange, it's numbers gleaming white. The doctor reached toward the keypad and then looked back at me. "Do you mind?" he asked, and I immediately averted my eyes to avoid seeing his passcode. A clicking sound followed by a whoosh softly lit across my ears. I heard a loud thunk as he pulled the door open. A cool breeze wafted through my hair from the opening. "Thanks" he said. "Nothing personal I hope." I nodded in agreement and followed him through the opening into a small room. The walls were covered with computer screens monitoring various items, reports automatically updating. A digital map of the world shown on the largest screen in the middle of the room, pins of red dotting the globe in various locations. The tables were covered with scientific instruments, microscopes, beakers with colorful solutions, and pages of notes and schematics. "Is that..." I pointed at the map. The doctor nodded his head. "All the known locations of the infection so far." He said solemnly. "There doesn't seem to be a pattern." I said, looking at the pins evenly scattered in major cities all across the world. "No, there's not an obvious one, unless you understand how this thing works." The doctor pointed at one city. "Look closely." He said. Notice the numbers in each city? It is spreading evenly in almost every location."
A tone called my attention to a new blip on the screen, and the graphic of red pin appeared on the map. It was located not far outside our city limits. "Another case" the doctor said sadly. "They happen more frequently now." He referred to a beaker of electric blue liquid. "Do you know how it works?" I studied the liquid, curious as to what it might be. "I haven't been able to see a pattern." I said. "Everyone who has been exposed seems to be almost random, and the people around them rarely get sick." The doctor nodded. "It seems that way, but it's not. You see, the virus is airborne, its everywhere, but it only infects certain people with the right genetic code." He referred to one of the screens behind him where the graphic of DNA rotated slowly. "It connects to those who have these proteins in this combination." A video showed a red virus attacking a blue, green, and yellow section of a DNA, wrapping itself around and then violently spreading across the entire strand. "We call these proteins the 'doorway segment' and once it latches on, it spreads across the strand, mutating the rest of the individual's genetic code, essentially turning them into something else." I studied the image on the screen. "So... If you're not compatible, what happens to the virus?" The doctor looked at me solemnly. "Then you become a carrier, a transporter of the virus, infecting everyone you come in contact with."
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